


Wicked

by lolamit



Series: High school AU (Drarry) [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, theatre nerd draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9081388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolamit/pseuds/lolamit
Summary: A couple of months after Christmas, and Draco and Harry have broken up. But that doesn't mean they can't be friends, or are there still feelings lingering between the two? When Harry has to jump in as an actor in their school's summer production of Wicked, Draco isn't hesitant to help.





	

It had been nearly five months since Christmas, and all was well in Draco’s life. School would end in three weeks, most of his exams were over and he’d landed a summer job at The Quibbler through Luna’s father, though he would much rather be writing fictional stories than journalistic texts. Things had ended between him and Harry about a month ago, but the breakup was mutual, so he’d gotten over that rather quickly. He felt blissful as he watched Luna skip rocks across the water, making them bounce one, two, three, even a fourth time, before they sank.

“That’s a good one!” He called, but Luna just shook her head.  
“I got seven once, must’ve had a better rock then.” She said as she made her way back to where Draco was standing.

They were on a beach not far from Draco’s house. Dean, Seamus and Neville were all sitting at a picnic table a bit further away. Ginny had just left for softball practice, and soon Draco would have to get going as well.

“Guys, we’re heading off!” Seamus shouted just then, as if he had read Draco’s thoughts. “You coming with?”  
“Be right there!” Luna called back as she scrambled together her things. Draco noticed a white Polaroid camera a few feet away, but Luna seemed oblivious to its presence.  
“Looks like your girlfriend forgot something.” Draco said as he picked it up.  
“Oh, thank you. I borrowed it to get some photos of the fish but they didn’t come out too well. Turns out they’re not so portrait friendly.” Luna spoke and placed the camera in her bag.

They started walking toward their friends who had already gathered their things and were on their way home. Draco could hear Seamus laugh at something Dean said and he couldn’t help but smile. A lot of things had changed after that party last Christmas, when Harry had invited and surprised him immensely. He now had more friends, including people he had never even thought to befriend. And even though he wasn’t seeing anyone, the love that surrounded him was enough to keep him happy.

“Are we still on for The Three Broomsticks tomorrow?” Neville asked as they all stopped outside Draco’s driveway.  
“Pansy would kill us if we didn’t go, so, yeah.” Dean chuckled.  
“I might have to help out my father, but I’ll try to make it a while.” Luna said. She’d been helping out more and more at The Quibbler since the start of this year, and Draco was excited to be working with her all summer.  
“How about you, Draco? You’re going right?” Seamus shot him a question and Draco smiled.  
“Like Dean said, Pansy would definitely ensure my death if I didn’t show.”

They said their goodbyes then, Draco beginning the walk to his house, Luna and Neville taking the shortcut through the woods and Dean and Seamus heading back to Dean’s place. Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant Draco had cricket practice at three. Draco didn’t necessarily hate cricket, but since Harry quit the team after only five weeks, he too had lost his interest. It’s not that he was bad at it, he was actually rather good – considering the years of experience he had thanks to his father forcing him to play as a child – but it wasn’t the same.

It was something he used to do with Harry, sort of like a thing they had. They’d go to cricket practice and then to the movies, or the park, or to either of their houses. They had joined together, and now going without him felt, well, wrong.

After dinner Draco went up to his room to study. Though there were only three weeks of school left, the teachers sure had no intent to slow down. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Everyone had crammed in tests and essays and presentations in the short time they had left, oblivious to the fact that the students – or at least Draco – now had three tests, four essays and one presentation to be held within the coming twenty-one days. Thankfully, Draco had started early, so he was set for at least the next week.

When the clock struck midnight Draco was sound asleep. He was in the middle of a dream when he heard a ringing noise. He couldn’t figure out what it was, and groaned when he realised it wasn’t part of the dream. Someone was _actually_ calling him. He glanced at the clock as he swiped to answer. _2 AM_. Who’s crazy enough to call him at _two in the morning?_

“Hello?” He answered sleepily.  
“Draco, thank god! I need your help.” The person shouted in a whisper.  
“Who’s this?” Draco asked, supporting his weight on his right elbow.  
“Okay, now I’m a little offended.” The whisper turned into a normal speaking tone and Draco recognised it immediately. “I may have hit puberty late but my voice broke years ago.”  
“Harry, it is 2 AM.” Draco groaned.  
“Yeah, I’m aware. Sorry about that, but I really need your help.” Harry repeated. “I’m outside.”  
Draco jolted to a sitting position, gripping the phone tighter. _He’s outside?_ Draco couldn’t believe it.  
“You’re _what_ now?” His voice came out as a whisper. “Are you _mad_?”  
“Would you stop with the emphasising and just look out your window?” Harry sighed and Draco did as told. The boy waved up at Draco.  
“Give me two minutes.”

Draco hung up, threw on some clothes and ran downstairs as quietly as he could. The door creaked as he pushed it open and he looked back to see if he’d woken anyone. Luckily, there was no one in sight, so he closed the door behind him and headed to his left.

Harry was standing near the wall, peeking into some windows, and jumped when he noticed Draco approaching. He put his hand over his heart and chuckled.

“For a moment there I thought you were Lucius.” He grinned. “You know, with the hair and all.”  
“Please, do not compare me to my father.” Draco warned, which only caused Harry’s grin to grow wider. “Now, what can I do for you?”

Harry’s smile quickly faded as Draco asked the question. His head turned to the ground and he seemed to be searching for words. After a moment he looked back up, meeting Draco’s eyes. He pressed his lips together before parting them only to speak one word.

“Wicked.” He said.

Draco frowned. He knew Harry could be cryptic, but what on earth could he mean by that?

“Come again?”  
“Wicked. The summer musical. Me. Problem.” Harry explained and now Draco couldn’t help but laugh. “You have to help me.”  
“I thought you were an understudy.” Draco stated and Harry sighed.  
“I was! Until the bloody guy had to go and break his leg. McGonagall expects me to take his place, Draco! In a school musical!” Harry exclaimed, his eyes flickering.  
“You’ll be fine, Harry. Just read your lines and don’t break character. That’s really all you have to do.” Draco tried to calm him.  
“That’s the problem, I don’t _know_ my lines.”  
“Are you serious? How do you not know your lines? You’ve been rehearsing since February!”  
“Well, they have. I mostly just used it to get out of class.”

Draco sighed, and just as he was about to lecture Harry of the importance in being an understudy, the living room light was turned on. None of them moved, knowing that if Draco’s father caught them the consequences would be non-negotiable. They shared a glance before Harry put three fingers in the air. Then two fingers. Then one. And as soon as the third finger was lowered they darted toward the forest outlining the manor. The steel fence was no match since Draco had been able to remove a post, leaving enough space to sneak through.

Draco felt a rush of adrenaline as he sprinted through the woods, avoiding trees as they appeared in front of him. Harry was right at his heel and he could hear the boy laugh. Draco laughed too. He felt like a kid, sneaking out, running through the wind with nothing but the moonlight to shine the way. He was loving every second so much, that he forgot about the time and his weariness.

They came to a stop at a small meadow lit up by the moon, and Harry took his usual spot in the grass. Draco sat down next to him, catching his breath. They found this hideout when they were dating, and though they rarely got to use it for a longer time because of the cold weather, it remained their secret. A place they could always resort to, be it alone or together.

“Thank god it’s practically summer.” Harry spoke after a few moments.

It was true. Summer had come early this year, or at least so it seemed. It wasn’t even June, yet the trees were blossoming and the wind was warm and brisk. Draco took a deep breath to get a feel of the fresh, summer air, and suddenly he found himself inspired to draw. He tried to memorise the scene as well as he could, so when he joined Luna in art class, he’d know exactly what to do.

“McGonagall is going to kill me.” Harry whined, interrupting Draco’s internal drawing.  
“No, she won’t. She’ll just force you out on that stage, whether you know your lines or not, to make a complete fool of yourself in front of everyone.” Draco sneered as Harry met his glance, his eyes filled with displeasure. “You’re going to wish she would’ve killed you.”  
“Not helping, Malfoy.” The boy said firmly. “This is a matter of life and eternal humiliation, and as of right now, both sounds pretty shite if you ask me.”

Draco watched Harry as he laid down, his head resting on the grass and his knees pointing toward the starry sky. The dark-haired boy closed his eyes with a deep sigh and Draco couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Though at the same time, he felt slightly annoyed that Harry got to spend all those hours in the auditorium and not even using them to rehearse, while Draco was stuck in chemistry with Snape. His gaze wandered from Harry’s eyes to his lips. His mouth was slightly open and Draco could tell he was breathing through it instead of his nose. He wanted to lean down – like he’d done so many times before – and kiss his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his mouth. But he knew he couldn’t. Because Draco was over Harry, and seemingly, Harry’s feelings for him were no different.

“Why didn’t you go to Luna or Dean about this? They’re in the play.” Draco broke the silence when he caught himself staring.  
“It’s too embarrassing. They would just see me as an amateur and, I know they would never say so out loud, but they’d be disappointed in me. Especially Luna.”  
“Well, how do you expect me to help? I haven’t even seen the script-“  
“And that’s why _I_ ,”–Harry cut him off and reached into his bag–“came prepared.”

He pulled out a script the size of a shorter book and handed it to Draco. There were squiggles all over the front page, but in the middle he could see the print. _Wicked_. It was one of Draco’s favourite musicals and he’d gone to see the British version just last year. He’d always enjoyed The Wizard of Oz, so naturally he’d love the story of the Wicked Witch of the West’s origin.

“So, you’re playing Boq, huh? Wonderful. You don’t have too many lines then, a bit of singing, that’s all.”  
“I can’t sing, Draco.”  
“Yes, you can. You have a lovely voice.”  
“Well, lovely isn’t great. Lovely isn’t phenomenal or marvellous like the rest! I’m decent at most.”

Draco frowned. Had someone told him a year ago that the loud, outgoing boy he’d come to fall in love with was this self-critical, he wouldn’t have believed a word. But, getting to know Harry in the most intimate of ways, he’d found out a lot of things he never would’ve thought possible. Like how he can’t sleep the night before a big game or an exam. Or how he spends an enormous amount of time researching things, which is why he can revel in the glory of being right in every class. Draco had thought he would just make things up, or read it on his phone moments before expressing it, but boy was he wrong.

“I love your voice.” Draco mumbled, not quite realising he had said it out loud.  
“You do?” Harry sounded surprised and Draco just nodded.  
“If I didn’t I would never have lasted four whole months with your constant babbling.” Draco smirked.

Harry responded with a chuckle. He was sitting up now, only inches away. The script in Draco’s hands started to feel heavy and he decided to put it down. He placed it in front of him and let his hands fall to his sides for support, when he accidentally put his left hand on Harry’s right. The boy didn’t so much as flinch, but turned his head facing Draco’s direction. He was close enough to feel his breath, stroking his skin every time he exhaled, and Draco’s gaze wandered to upward until their eyes locked. His heart was racing and he could feel his breathing become irregular as he searched for words. Harry’s lips quivered as he stared into Draco’s eyes, and it took every fibre of Draco’s body to pull back and restrain himself.

“So, uhm. Wicked. Let’s run some lines, shall we?” Draco stumbled on the words as he awkwardly reached for the script, leaving Harry’s hand lonely on the ground.  
“Oh. Yeah, good idea.” Harry looked away, biting down on his bottom lip.

They spent at least two hours rehearsing Harry’s lines, listening to the songs and laughing until their cheeks felt numb. Time went by so fast that neither of them realised the sun was rising somewhere in the distance. The soft morning glow made Harry’s eyes sparkle as he pulled off a spot-on impression of McGonagall.

It wasn’t until Harry’s phone buzzed that they noticed the daylight that had snuck up on them. Draco sighed, feeling his eyelids get heavier with every blink. He’d only gotten two hours of sleep, after all. He yawned as Harry stood up, still not able to fathom how the boy didn’t even act tired.

“I’ve got to get home. My uncle found my bed empty and now he’s freaking out, so, I should probably get going.” Harry held his hand out to Draco, and pulled him up on his feet when he grabbed it. “Is there any chance you could meet me in the auditorium tonight? To rehearse?”  
“I promised Pansy I’d go see her gig at The Three Broomsticks.” Harry nodded slowly.  
“Oh, right, that was tonight. Well, I’ll just go by myself then.” He smiled briefly. “I’ll see you around.” Then he turned away and started walking toward the trees.

Draco felt bad, even though he knew he shouldn’t. It wasn’t his fault that Harry had neglected his responsibilities as standby, yet he could feel his heart sink as he watched him walk off. He’d had fun tonight, and Pansy had a ton of friends going to see her play, so maybe…

“Harry, wait!” Draco shouted after him. “How’s seven?”

Harry turned around, but didn’t speak. Draco could see the smile forming on his lips and then there was a nod. Harry kept his eyes locked with Draco’s as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Seven’s good.”

At 6 AM, Draco opened the front door carefully, and tiptoed back to his bedroom. Once he was inside, he threw himself on the bed – exhaustion taking over and barely a minute later – he was fast asleep.

He dreamed about Harry that morning, for four hours straight until his mother woke him up. He stayed in bed for a while, just going through the night in his head over and over again. It felt surreal, almost like it had all been a dream. But, it wasn’t a dream, was it? Draco felt uncertain. What if it didn’t actually happen? What if he’d made up the entire thing subconsciously?

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed with a frown, his brain working at top speed to remember what’s real and what’s not. His eyes swayed across the room, from the window where he’d seen Harry wave at him, to the wardrobe where he’d changed his clothes before leaving the house. Then it hit him – his clothes! – they weren’t his sleepwear! He was wearing a t-shirt and some sweatpants, clothes only his family and Harry had seen him in. It wasn’t a dream. Which meant he’d promised to meet with Harry at seven. Pansy would not be pleased, but she’d get over it.

He picked up the phone almost immediately and called Pansy, who answered happily. Draco explained his situation, how he’d promised to help Harry practice for the summer musical, hoping she would understand. Pansy sighed, and Draco could tell she was disgruntled by his words. He apologised several times and although Pansy said it was okay, that she didn’t care, Draco was flooded with guilt. He told her this – told her he wished he could make it – because in all honesty, he did. He just wanted to help Harry more. Pansy scoffed.

“I’m not even surprised. You act like he means nothing since you broke up, but he’ll always be your first choice,” She said. “Just do me one favour, don’t come running to me when things turn ugly.”

Then she hung up. Draco had expected yelling and usage of profanity, but the cold response Pansy had given him was far worse. She was one of his oldest friends and had always been there in times of need, and now that she was the one asking for support, Draco had disappointed her. Left her hanging, forsaken her when she needed him the most. He felt paralysed, in a way that was completely new to him. He felt like he’d lost her for good.

With heavy steps, Draco made his way down the stairs, to the dining room for breakfast. His father gave him a displeased look, and Draco could only hope it was because of how late he’d left bed, and not for what he’d spent the night doing. He chatted with his mother while eating, telling her how bad he felt for skipping out on Pansy’s gig. She smiled at the mention of Harry’s name, putting her hand on Draco’s forearm and squeezing it slightly.

“If you don’t want to go, you shouldn’t.” She told him and Draco frowned.  
“But I _do_ want to go. It’s just, I want to help Harry, too.”

His mother pressed her lips together, seemingly to think. A moment later she suggested he brought Harry to the gig and then to rehearse, but Draco told her the auditorium would be closed by that time. The concert starts at 6:30 PM, Draco had promised to meet Harry at seven. He could still make it at least twenty minutes, which would hopefully be enough for Pansy to drop her grudge against him.

He thanked his mother for the advice and breakfast, and hurried back to his room. There were still a couple of hours to kill before his cricket practice, so he called Luna to see what she was up to.

“I’m helping my father with a news piece. We’re quite stuck. Perhaps you would like to take a look at it? Father says you’re a natural.” Luna said over the phone and Draco gladly agreed.  
“Be there in thirty.”

He rushed downstairs, shouting goodbye to no one in particular as he closed the door behind him. His bike stood leaned against the house a few feet away. He got on and started pedalling, eager to occupy himself with something and to tell Luna about last night.

Half an hour later he opened the door to The Quibbler main office where Luna’s father worked, and where he’d be spending most of his summer. Luna sat in her father’s chair as her father himself was pacing the floor, a big frown on his face. The frown quickly transformed into a broad smile as he saw Draco entering the room. He welcomed him with a hug, and Draco awkwardly patted his back as he greeted Luna’s wave with a smile.

They spent a few hours composing an article worthy of the front-page, until Draco had to leave for cricket practice. Luna followed him to the door whilst contemplating how he could redeem himself to Pansy after tonight. But they were both drawing a blank. She told him she was happy about things working out with Harry, and though he could see worry in her eyes, there was no mention of Harry being a slacker in rehearsals. Theatre meant everything to Luna, and knowing one of the actors hadn’t been trying until now would surely upset her, but she kept a straight face, knowing Harry would do a great job anyway.

After cricket, Draco hurried home. He took a shower and had dinner with his family, glancing at the clock every ten-or-so seconds. 6:10. He had to leave now if he wanted to make it in time. Carefully, he asked his parents if he could be excused. His mother, knowing he had plans, agreed immediately and his father sighed, but waved him off as he went upstairs to change. He threw on some nicer clothes than sweatpants and a tee, and then left for the tube.

He made it through the doors of The Three Broomsticks just as the clock struck 6:30. His friends were sitting at the tables closest to the stage and Draco made his way over to them as Pansy introduced herself.

“Evening! For those of you who don’t know, my name is Pansy Parkinson, though I think I recognise nearly every face in here so… no need for that. Anyway, I’ll be playing some original songs for you tonight. Hope you enjoy.” She spoke into the mic.

Draco greeted his friends and took a seat next to Blaise. Everyone was there, except for Harry, which Draco thought was a bit strange since he’d been invited. But maybe he couldn’t make it. Did that mean he wouldn’t make it to auditorium either? Draco’s racing thoughts were interrupted by Pansy’s voice. Though still only talking.

“Oh, and this first song goes out to an absolute knobhead friend of mine who said he wouldn’t make it and yet, here he is. The song – very seemly – is called _He Is My Boyfriend, We’re Just Not into Labels_.” Pansy winked at Draco and everyone laughed at the suitable title.

Time went by quickly and well into song four, Draco had to leave. He waited until Pansy had stopped singing, though, not wanting to look too rude. He excused himself and Pansy rolled her eyes but waved him off, quite similarly to how his father had done earlier.

He caught a bus to school, feeling a bit weird being there at this hour, but also excited to see Harry again. He spotted the boy as soon as he got off the bus, leaning against the brick wall of the building with his head toward the sky. Draco wondered what he was thinking, wishing he could read his mind. Harry didn’t notice Draco until he was only a few feet away, but this time he wasn’t startled. His face lit up with a smile and his eyes sparkled in the sunlight. He was even more beautiful than Draco remembered.

“You alright?” Harry asked, tilting his head slightly to the left and Draco realised he hadn’t heard what the boy said before that.  
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. You were saying?” Harry chuckled.  
“You ready to go inside?” He repeated his question and this time Draco nodded.

The auditorium was dark and vast. It felt so much bigger without any people or lights. Luckily, Draco knew were the switches were, and soon the empty space filled with fluorescent light, making it a little less intimidating.

Harry was sat in the middle of the stage when Draco returned from the back, flipping through the script with focused eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. Draco took a seat next to him, asking if anything was wrong.

“I’ll never learn this in time, Draco.” Harry spoke quietly, sadness flooding his eyes, yet no tears were visible. “It’s useless.”  
“The Harry I know would never give up, so let’s get to work.” Draco said, grabbing the script and getting up on his feet. “I’ll be Glinda. Do you remember your lines?”  
“A few.” Harry stood up too, grinning at the thought of Draco as the female lead. “Does this mean I have an unrequited love for you?”

Draco’s heart jumped at his words, though he knew he only meant in the play. He nodded and Harry’s grin grew even wider. “How suitable.” He winked.

They went through every scene Harry was in at least five times, and though most of them ended up in uncontrollable laughter, Draco could see a distinct improvement. Harry was speaking by heart and singing his lines from the songs with great empathy. Draco was in awe of Harry’s performance. Perhaps he was just feeling light-headed because of his mere presence, but something in the way he pranced across the stage, swaying and sweeping, made Draco re-evaluate his feelings for the boy in front of him. As he watched Harry hum the chorus to _Dancing through Life_ he was done thinking, and suddenly all the repressed and forgotten emotions came crashing into Draco’s brain like bullets from a gun. _Not again_.

He sat down at the edge of the stage, closing his eyes as if that would help push every back as far as possible. His heart was racing, beating at the speed of light in his chest, and he could feel his cheeks flushing. It didn’t take long until Harry realised something was wrong, and soon he was right there by his side, watching with worried eyes. Draco told him he was fine, still not opening his eyes because he was scared that if he did, he’d only drown in Harry’s. He felt a hand rubbing his back and another one on his thigh. Harry repeated calming words and phrases, but Draco could barely hear them over the blood pulsing through his veins. He took a deep breath and dared to look, his eyes immediately finding Harry’s gaze.

“I should get going.” Draco said, watching as the worry in Harry’s eyes changed into something different. “I’m sorry.”  
“It’s alright, don’t worry. Thank you for all the help tonight. It really means a lot.” Harry replied, the same sadness filling his eyes as before.

Draco jumped off the stage, mumbling a goodbye as he headed for the exit with hurried steps. He was torn; on one hand he wanted nothing more to run back inside and throw himself in Harry’s arms and never let go, but on the other hand, he couldn’t, because he was supposed to be over him. He was supposed to be happy with being single and just friends with Harry, content with the path he had chosen to take. Although the breakup was mutual, Draco had ignited it.

He went straight home. Forced himself to push back any tears or thoughts that dared come out of hiding, until he was in the safety of his own room. Then and there he let go. Letting all the emotions he’d subconsciously been holding back for far too long pour out of his body. Why did he leave?

_*TWO WEEKS LATER*_

The auditorium was packed, everyone waiting in suspense for the lights to turn on and the show to begin. Draco was sat with Ginny on his left side and Seamus on his right, all watching the stage intently for their friends to appear. Then it happened, music poured out of the speakers and the curtains raised.

Two hours later the show came to an end and applause filled the vast space, with an occasional cheer or shout of admiration. Draco was amazed. The performance had been so brilliant and he couldn’t wait to compliment his friends on their fantastic job. The students lined up along the stage and bowed as the audience went wild. Draco spotted Harry, smiling broadly in his costume. They locked eyes and Draco smiled weakly at the boy, his head flooding with guilt. But Harry seemed his normal, cheery self and returned Draco’s smile with a wink. Draco had to look away.

A couple of minutes later, the auditorium started to empty. The actors came out from backstage, greeted by hugs from their friends and some teachers. Luna was the first to appear, and Draco couldn’t hold back his excitement, babbling on and on about how perfect she was for the part as Glinda. She laughed at Draco’s rambling and thanked him with a hug. As Draco let go of Luna, he noticed Harry making his way back out on the stage. Their eyes locked once again, and Draco found no words to speak, even though he knew so many.

“How did I do?” Harry asked as he reached Draco.  
“Phenomenal. Marvellous. Decent at most.” Draco uttered, his voice nearly cracking.

Harry smiled gratefully at him, his lips forming a perfect shape that Draco just couldn’t take his eyes off. For two weeks he’d been ignoring Harry, trying to get everything he felt that Saturday out of his systems. He thought he’d done it. He thought he was finally over him again and came here today confident he could look at Harry as no more than a friend. But alas, he was wrong. Those green eyes would always be the centre of his imagination, his dark hair would always paint the night sky its rightful colour and those lips, those lips would always be the voice in his head, and the feel of them against Draco’s own would always linger on his lips. He was so undeniably in love with Harry, it was almost embarrassing. Yet, he uttered no confession. No great avowal of his feelings. No nothing.

“I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you, Draco. For everything.” Harry said after a while.

Draco smiled though his face felt numb. He knew Harry could tell there was something not right in his eyes, but he didn’t ask, so Draco didn’t tell. Maybe he didn’t even care anymore. Although his eyes never lost contact with Draco’s, something wasn’t the same, and he knew Harry felt it too. Yet, no further words were spoken between the two that day.


End file.
